Jade's eyes darted in the direction of the sound. He had a feeling they weren't alone anymore, and it wasn't a comforting thought. His young heart raced as he tried to make out the approaching figures. However all his eyes allowed him to make out were the dark, tattered cloaks that billowed around them like the wings of predatory birds. Their faces were obscured by the hoods, leaving their features hidden in the shadows. It was impossible to tell if they were friend or foe, but the unease that settled in Jade's gut leaned heavily towards the foe option.
"We've got company," Jade whispered urgently, his voice low but filled with urgency. He turned his head to glance at Rok, who had finally managed to stand up but still seemed disoriented. Onyx had shifted her position slightly, preparing herself for whatever might come next.
He counted at least six hooded figures, whom continued to advance towards them, their movements deliberate and unhurried. Jade felt a shiver run down his spine as he noticed the glint of steel concealed in one of the figure's cloaks. A sword. Weapons, meant they weren't here for a friendly chat.
"Well, aren't this a fine mess we've gotten ourselves into." Oldren's grumbling voice cut through the tension as he glared particularly at Onyx.
As the figures closed in, Jade's mind raced with thoughts of escape. He glanced around, searching for any means to slip away, but the dense forest offered little in the way of cover. Not to mention the rope that still bound them, it felt like they were trapped, and there was no way out.
As the hooded figures reached them, their eyes hidden in the shadows of their hoods, and just like they had done before they came from behind. Quickly and swiftly like a pack of—wolves. They remained silent, no words spoken, no questions asked of their business, no weapons drawn. It seemed clear to Jade they only wanted to bring them somewhere—or to someone. Who that someone was or their intentions remained a mystery, only that they would soon find out.
Before Jade could utter a word or make a move, he felt the familiar sensation of darkness imprisoned him once more. He had no choice but to put his trust, however tentative, into the hands of the hooded figure who had taken charge of guiding him to an unknown destination.
The world outside was reduced to an oppressive blackness, and Jade's sense of time and space became distorted. He felt the rough texture of the potato sack against his face, and the sensation of confinement closed in around him.
"I trust the others, I know they won't let anything happen to me." he reassured himself, calming the galloping horse that took over his heart, "I trust them, I am safe,", he sighed slightly attempting to further calm his racing thoughts that tried to pollute him with fear and doubt. "I am safe, now"
-ooooo-
Darkness took over like ink spilled on a canvas. A rough, textured fabric covered his face, blinding Rok as he was shoved along, the harsh tugs on the rope that bound his arms together sending searing pain through his body. Every jolt and pull disoriented him. Time seemed to lose meaning in the oppressive darkness. The scent of damp earth overwhelmed his senses, and his breath grew hot and heavy within the confines of the bag over his head.
Fear coursed through him, mingling with confusion and anger. Who had caught them? The question tormented his thoughts, but the bag remained firmly in place, denying him any answers.
Suddenly, the movement ceased, and Rok was left standing in eerie silence. He strained his ears, trying to discern any clues about their captors, but only suffocating stillness accompanied him.
Then, as abruptly as it had stopped, the motion resumed. Rok was roughly pulled downward, forced to his knees. He braced himself for what might come next, his heart pounding in his chest.
With a swift, forceful yank, the bag was ripped from his head, and blinding light assaulted his eyes. For a moment, he blinked and squinted against the sudden brightness, his vision slowly adjusting to reveal the scene before him.
He found himself kneeling on the forest floor, surrounded by towering oak trees and small rustic homes, made from weaved saplings. A longhouse built from sturdy logs and thatched with straw, nestled among the ancient trees in front of him, their structures blending woods. The air was filled with the earthy scent of moss and leaves. The distant sound of a running creek filled his ears.
As his vision cleared, Rok's gaze darted around, and he was met with a sight that brought sudden relief. To his side kneeled Onyx, Jade, and Oldren. They were safe, for now.
However it was the figure standing before them that held the majority of Rok's attention. A tall imposing figure with a black fur draped upon his shoulders, an antler crown adorned his head. Long, straight, silver hair cascading down past his shoulders, and from it stuck out two elven ears—tall and pointed. But what sent shivers through Rok's spin was the golden gaze that met his. A familiar golden hue. A golden hue that held a look of—sorrow and grief.
Before he could demand answers, Onyx's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Hello, Father."